Better
by spacemonkey766
Summary: Barry being gone was the deepest and most profound loss they had to endure as a team, as a family. But when he returns home to them they realize he may not be the man, the son, the friend, the Barry they knew. But as difficult as it might be, different has to be better than being without. [tag to 4x01]
1. Cecile

**Better**

summary: Barry being gone was the deepest and most profound loss they had to endure as a team, as a family. But when he returns home to them they realize he may not be the man, the son, the friend, the Barry they knew. But as difficult as it might be, different has to be better than being without. [tag to 4x01]

genre: Family, Hurt-Comfort

rated: T

authors note: Title and lyrics are courtesy of the song "Better" by Jason Mraz. I adored the season premiere. I thought it was a perfect balance of light and dark, hope and hopelessness that allowed that characters space to evolve separately and together. May go down as one of my favorite episodes. Anyway, thank you for reading!

* * *

 **Cecile**

* * *

 **It's something like I apologize**

 **It's something I still can't decide**

 **But it only gets better**

* * *

Cecile couldn't bring herself to believe when she got the call from the State Police officer that had recognized Barry, not until she saw the shaking young man wrapped in an oversized blanket outside the station. She almost hadn't recognized him, his hair unkempt and messy, his lower face obscured by a scruffy beard. They had warned her that he was out of it. He wasn't speaking and seemed to not know where he was or how he'd gotten there. She discretely ushered him into one of the holding rooms, offering him a fresh set of clothes. All the while he said nothing to her, made no inkling that he even recognized her as he cautiously reached an arm out from between the folds of the blanket to accept the shirt, sweatpants, and tennis shoes. She gave him a small smile, assuring him she'd be right back but he didn't seem to care. Giving him some privacy, she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her and pulled out her phone. Her finger hovered over the call button at Joe's name.

What would she say? This was the news they'd been waiting for, the hope they'd all been holding on to, a hope that had been slowly slipping away over the course of the last six months. Why did this feel difficult, why was she hesitant to break the news? It should be easy, simple. Except there was nothing simple about the grief she saw nearly break each member of that family separately but strengthen them collectively. Whatever words she chose to say to Joe would change everything, would be the moment they could all breathe again without that feeling that something vital to them all was missing.

"Joe, he's here. Barry is here."

The call hadn't been more than a few minutes, Joe promising they'd be there as soon as possible. She took a deep breath before returning to the room, praying that it all wasn't some dream and Barry Allen was indeed alive and here. As she entered she saw him, now fully clothed, sitting against the far wall, hands clutching his head as if in pain, mumbling quiet words to himself. She approached him cautiously, calling out his name in the softest voice she could. He looked up at her but the mumbling stopped. She asked him if he was okay, if she could get him anything, resisting the urge to hug him him because she knew better with victims in shock. He met her eyes before adjusting his gaze to the floor, taking his right hand and mimicking writing with his finger.

He was trying to communicate. Cecile quickly left the room, grabbing the first thing she could get her hands on, a black marker and a notepad. As she approached him, he reached for the marker and sprung to his feet, ignoring the pad of paper and bypassing her completely, long-legged strides to the far wall with the glass panels and began drawing symbols feverishly.

She tried to talk to him, asking questions. He mostly ignored her her presence, turning to her only once.

"Can you see the stars, blinking?" he asked, his eyes pleading before clenching tightly. "Sinking, thinking, can't think," he added as his voice tapered off, turning away from her to resume his drawing.

She stayed with him, watching in silence as he bounced from one side of the room to the other as he wrote foreign symbols across the windows, panels and painted walls. She studied the face that switched from intense concentration as he scribbled to satisfaction as he completed a new set of symbols. The beard made him look older, more like his age than the clean, baby face she had been accustomed to seeing. He somehow looked tired and energized at the same time, his eyes bright but missing that light behind them that was distinctive of Barry Allen. Her observation was interrupted when she finally received the text from Joe that they had arrived. Closing the door behind her as she exited, she leaned back against the door for a moment, taking a deep breath. Cecile thought the call had been difficult to make. What was coming next would be a lot harder.

"You should prepare yourselves."

Cecile had worked with Barry Allen for about five years now since he started at CCPD, the young man quickly going from a forensic assistant to the most reliable CSI in the entire precinct. Despite his tardiness and unexplained absences, he always got the job done and done well. She always had everything she needed to do her job as DA when Barry Allen had worked the case. He was always kind, always smiled at her when she would come by the station. When she started dating Joe, the smile he would greet her with changed from one of friendliness to fondness. He had pulled her aside once and told her how happy he was that she and Joe were together, grateful to her that she was so understanding of how important their unique family was to Joe. And she did understand. She respected the sanctity of movie night because she knew it was a tradition started long ago by Joe, Iris and Barry when the three of them were creating traditions as a new family. She admired how much Joe adored his kids, how deeply he loved his daughter, how much room he had in his heart for a boy that wasn't originally his, and how proud he was of the son that he'd only just met two years ago. She wouldn't dare try to instill herself as first priority in Joe's life, just like he knew that her daughter was hers. Finding the balance between their two separate lives to start one together was no easy task, but both Cecile and Joe were equal to it. To be thanked for that by Barry had brought her to tears because she also knew just how much Joe meant to him.

"Your honor, I'm innocent. I didn't do this, I didn't kill anybody," uttered in a calm sincerity, said in such a Barry Allen way that if she didn't know how scrambled he was, Cecile would feel compelled to ask questions about the crime he claimed he didn't commit. But then his tone changed, switching almost instantly into a question about hearing the stars, asked in a crazed confusion that took her completely out of seeing the Barry Allen she knew. To see that same young man, this brilliant and kind young man like this now, to know how much it was going to hurt Joe, she had to choke back tears.

Cecile had been there for Joe at the end of the days he'd had to remain strong for Iris, Wally and Cisco, only allowing himself to break down when they were alone. She held him while he had cried, listened to stories about the eleven year old boy he took in told with tearful smiles, watched as he would flip through photo albums or linger in the hall past the slightly ajar door of Barry's old room.

While in the process of moving in, Cecile never once suggested changing the spaces of Iris' old room or Barry's, knowing Joe kept them the way they left them so they could always feel like they had a place to come home to. But Iris had offered up hers to transition over to a guest room that Joanie could utilize when she came home from school. Iris hadn't used it since she and Barry started dating, always sleeping in Barry's old room whenever they slept over the West home. Even now with him gone, Iris would still sleep in it. Even though she couldn't bare to sleep in the bed and the space that she and Barry had shared, for whatever reason Iris found sleeping in the space that used to be his brought her comfort.

But on most days, the door to what once was Barry's room remained closed. They had to walk past the room at every pass down the hall because it was the first door on the right at the end of the stairs. Some days she would walk past and see the door slightly open, knowing that for a moment, Joe must have opened it to feel like Barry was still here. Some days she would catch him walking around the room, picking up odds and ends left behind that Joe knew the story of each item. Other days she'd find him sitting in the chair near the bed, the chair she knew where a younger Joe had sat beside the bed of a young boy at night, a young boy who was scared of the dark, whose nightmares woke him screaming, who cried because he missed his mother, who took comfort in Joe's presence because it made him feel safe.

Cecile could not relate to the pain Iris and Joe were going through and was in awe of the West family. Despite their broken hearts, they still worked every day to carry on, to help the city in Barry's absence, and to try to be brave for each other. But Cecile knew the truth, that the West family wasn't complete without Barry Allen.

As she watched him now, watched the small family's joy of his return be tarnished by their concern and disappointment, Cecile's own heart ached for them all. But as Joe caught Barry in his arms after Caitlin sedated him, as he wrapped his arms around Barry and held him to his chest, Cecile knew they would find a way to get through this. She'd offer her help in anyway she could, but she knew they wouldn't need her. Cecile had heard stories, knew Joe and Barry, Iris and the gathered group had already been through so much together. There was no reason for her to believe that this would be any different.


	2. Joe

**Joe**

* * *

 **And I want to say that it's not always easy**

 **But it's simple that way**

* * *

The phone call from Cecile had nearly stopped his heart but the drive to CCPD set his heart beating almost as fast as the rhythm he knew Barry's had been since being struck by lightning. As they entered the holding room and saw Barry seated on the floor, Joe couldn't breathe. And then his son looked over his shoulder and smiled at them and Joe felt the knot in his chest begin to untangle for the first time in six months.

What followed after that moment of elation sent him into a whirlwind of emotions. Confusion at Barry's words, disbelief that he was truly standing in front of him, concern when he spoke nonsense, fear when he gripped his head in pain. Of course it wasn't as simple as shock. Nothing ever was for them. As he caught his son in his arms after Caitlin sedated him, Joe felt like he could cry because the now unconscious young man was real, was solid, and was being held tightly in the arms of his father. He never wanted to let him go.

Joe didn't know what Barry had meant when he said "Nora shouldn't be here" or when he was clearly reliving a moment with Oliver Queen while they were at the station. He didn't know the foreign symbols that were drawn all over the room. When they returned to S.T.A.R. Labs and woke him, Barry seemed calmer but no less confused. Joe wasn't sure what was happening with his son. Barry would switch from talking about the stars to uttering words that rhymed with the last word in a sentence and then suddenly, like an echo from the past, as if he was reliving it or replaying it, something he had said before would be said again. To an outsider, it was all nonsense. However these were no passing statements but dialogue that represented certain points in Barry's life like markers on a timeline, expressions of a place and time that someone who lived there along side Barry Allen would recognize immediately.

'No thank you. I'm not hungry,' was six months of similar dismissals as the eleven year old boy fought down his anger, his despair, his helplessness at what his life had become until finally Joe had got him to open up to him. Finally he would sit and eat meals with them, would talk to Joe about what he was feeling, would ask him to stay with him until he fell asleep because he was terrified the man in yellow would come for him, was terrified of waking and being alone because since his mom's death and father's absence, Barry felt so alone.

And then the man in front of them turned to him, eyes pleading and a broken voice.

"He didn't do those things. He didn't hurt my mom. I was there that night, there was a man."

Joe knew that broken voice. It came from a twenty eight year old man but belonged to an eleven year old boy, desperate for someone to believe him. Joe had heard different versions of the same sentence for years. When Barry was was older the sentence had changed, tone steady, dismissive and unyielding after years of denying his father's guilt. To Joe it wasn't said often because after he reached a certain age, after they reached a certain point in their relationship, they stopped arguing about it. Joe knew what he knew, that Henry had killed Nora in front of his eleven year old son, and Barry held firm, repeating any time it was mentioned 'my father did not kill my mother.' But when Barry was a kid, there was a desperation in his argument, emotionally charged and pleading. He begged for people to understand his father's innocence, that his father would never hurt his mother, that he saw a man in the lightning storm that invaded their home and terrorized the family. The words Barry spoke now Joe had heard in so many variations when he first took on raising Barry. That exact statement was said to Joe when he caught Barry trying to run away to see his dad in jail. That broken, desperate plea was uttered to Joe seventeen years ago and repeated to him now by a fractured version of his son. More than the words though, the pain in the voice Joe recognized immediately, as if it was a monument or bookmark of a place and time.

When retelling Barry's story it usually started and ended with his mother was murdered and his father was wrongfully imprisoned for it. But the truth was that wasn't where the story stopped, it wasn't the beginning and end of Barry's struggle. His mother dying, witnessing her being circled in yellow and red lightning, crying out for help as something he couldn't explain tried to hurt her, all in front of him. It was a terrifying sight for anybody, especially a child. It was a scene that would replay over and over in his nightmares for years to come. They haunted his dreams every night for months after it happened, would revisit frequently as he grew up, and even occasionally as an adult because trauma like that doesn't just go away when we get older. It stays with you. Then his father, taken away and locked up, Barry ripped from his home, never seeing it again after that night. Suddenly living with people he was comfortable with, whose home and time had been spent there very often over the years, but that wasn't the same as living there full time. If he became uncomfortable, he couldn't just go home. That was all gone. Everything he knew was gone and he had to start over without his mom, without his dad, and with a broken heart.

Then came court appointed therapists and child psychologists, trying to get him to talk through his trauma, to cope with the fact that his mother was killed by his father. They tried to get him to admit that he was covering for Henry until they realized the boy truly believed what he claimed he saw. For years shrinks analyzed him until Joe decided that Barry had been through enough. For fourteen years people tried to convince him that his father was a murderer. He was bullied, ridiculed, and ignored. And for fourteen years, Joe did his best to assure Barry that although he may not believe his story, he did believe _in_ him and loved him unconditionally.

So no, they weren't just echoed words of the past. Looking at those pain filled eyes, hearing that desperate voice, Joe knew Barry was reliving that moment. What had he been through while trapped in the Speed Force? The visage of Nora said he wasn't going to hell, but wasn't being forced to relive some of the most painful moments in your life just as good as? Maybe it had broken him, leaving just scattered remains of the brilliant boy he had raised.

It was when he was cleaning him up, shaving the beard that made him look so different than his son, that Joe had hope again. Barry was silent as Joe took the razor to his cheeks and jaw, just like he had been for nine months when Joe would take care of him while in the coma. The difference this time, however, was that Barry was awake, watching with soft eyes as Joe focused on his task. He didn't flinch, didn't move as Joe worked. He kept his head down as Joe removed the hair from his cheeks, followed direction as Joe gently lifted his head to get under his chin, along the neck, or to the side as he traced the jaw.

Since they'd found him, short of when he was unconscious, it was the most calm Joe had seen Barry. He wasn't speaking a mile a minute, wasn't feverishly drawing the symbols that decorated the containment cell now like they had the holding room at CCPD or the glass surfaces of the medbay. He just sat, silently watching his father. It brought Joe comfort now to take care of Barry, reminding him of when he first taught Barry to shave when he was a teenager or how on one of his visits to S.T.A.R. Labs every two weeks or so to make sure Barry still looked like Barry. When he'd been in the coma, Joe could at least see him, touch his hand or cheek and feel his warmth that told him he was still alive. These past six months though all he had was his memories, photographs and a fleeting mirage in the rooms of the house he raised his children in or the police station he'd worked alongside him. But now, as he pulled the towel away, Barry smiled up at him, the small kind that he did with his eyes and slight upturn of the lips. And for the first time in six months, Joe was looking upon the face he knew so well, the boy he loved, the young man he raised, his son.

And then another echo from the past, words exchanged when Barry had tried to convince Joe that Iris should be let in his secret of being the Flash, interrupted Joe's relief.

"You said it yourself, she goes looking for danger." Suddenly Joe was reminded, much like everything else Barry had endured in his life, getting him back wouldn't be easy. But Joe didn't find himself wanting to shake Barry out of it, wanting to reason with him or plead him to return, not like he had wanted to do while Barry had spent nine months in a coma. All he wanted to do now was scoop the young man into his arms and hold him close because god, he'd missed him. It was that deep kind of pain you feel in your bones; his absence had hovered over them all, adding a weight to the air in S.T.A.R. Labs and leaving the West home in a state of constant static of anticipation, as if they were just waiting for either Barry to walk through the door or to suddenly give in to the grief of his permanent loss.

Instead, Joe reached out a hand to cup the face in front of him. As his thumb gently stroked his cheek, Barry closed his eyes at the gentle touch and the small smile remained and Joe couldn't help but feel that hope return. Barry knew who Joe was, knew he was safe and loved because this was how a son responded to a father's love. This may not have been what he imagined when he thought of having Barry back but if he was being honest, he wasn't exactly sure what he had been expecting. But it wasn't this.

Joe had seen countless stories of parents taking care of their adult kids who suffered from some trauma or mental disability, their love for their child unwavering as they spent their lives as a support system and caregiver. He knew what that kind of love was. Their lives may be complicated but the love for his children wasn't. If nothing else, loving his kids was simple. If this was all that was left of his son, if this was how it was going to be, Joe would take it. Even if his mind wouldn't fully return, the light in his eyes, the soul behind that smile, and the man in front of him had. As Joe stroked the face of the young man, he knew they would get through this. Whatever that meant, Barry getting better or him staying like this, whatever it was, they would be fine because he was back and he was with them. He was here. Joe would take that over the last six months without him any day.


	3. Caitlin

**Caitlin**

* * *

 **And I want to stay and play it out**

 **But I still have my doubts**

 **So you say it gets better**

 **It only gets better**

* * *

"You said the city was safe, that there was no residual danger but that's not true. What really happened that night."

Those words felt as loud in this room as they did that night they first left his lips. He had come storming into the cortex of S.T.A.R. Labs, the same room that only a few days prior had housed a hospital bed where he lay comatose. It was that conversation where she learned more about Barry Allen in a few moments than she had in the months of caring for him, piecing his life together with medical records, scattered information overheard from visitors, and details Cisco found trolling his Facebook page. In just a few moments she learned of his passion for helping people, his drive to do good, insisting that they needed to stop a bank robber who had also been changed by the particle accelerator. It was there he asked Cisco and Caitlin to help him, to join him in trying to keep the city safe from the metahumans they'd created. It was that night where there is all began.

But now those words felt heavier, felt accusatory in a different way. He'd entered the Speed Force to keep the city safe and what had she done? She'd let herself become the thing they had been trying to prevent from the beginning; a villain, a threat to their safety, a danger to the city they swore to protect. Iris had tried to assure him the city was safe, unaware that Barry was quoting their past and not referring to the night six months ago. And then Barry began talking about the stars again, and for a moment Caitlin allowed herself to be pulled from her own thoughts and refocus again on the man in front of them and the new challenge of trying to figure out just which Barry Allen they'd managed to pull from the Speed Force.

After she had administered the sedative, she watched Joe hold out an arm to brace Barry as he fell back slowly into his arms. Joe held him against his chest, looking down at his hung face for a moment and Caitlin saw him close his eyes briefly as if hugging Barry close to him was about to break him down into tears. But ever the pillar of strength, Joe took in a deep breath and raised his head as the moment passed. Joe turned to Wally and told him to bring Barry to the car. The youngest member of the West family took Barry from his father with a gentleness she'd never seen before from the young speedster. He sped Barry to the S.T.A.R. Labs van outside without anyone seeing or knowing, she and Iris following after them immediately. Joe lingered for a moment to talk briefly to Cecile before following. Cisco told them he would breach back to S.T.A.R. Labs after taking photos of Barry's writings, the young scientist feeling it might be important.

The drive back felt longer than the drive to CCPD. Barry was secured to the long bench seat along the wall of the back of the van, his head resting on Iris' lap as she sat at the end. Her eyes didn't move from his form, one hand resting on his chest above his heart, the other slowly combing through the hair that flopped over his brow. Caitlin did her best not to disturb her as she checked Barry's vitals in silence, knowing Iris must be unsure of how to process her fiancé's sudden and confusing return. It had been difficult for Caitlin to see Barry like that, couldn't imagine what it was like for Iris or Joe, but she needed to stay focused on being his doctor, if not for their sake than for her own.

When they'd gotten back to S.T.A.R. Labs and settled Barry into the hospital cot in the medbay, Caitlin began a more thorough examination. However, she found herself feeling uncomfortable with their eyes watching from the observation room. It wasn't because she didn't know what she was doing. Even after months away, falling back into 'doc mode' as Cisco had called it in the past, came rather natural to her. It was the unease because of how long she'd been away, feeling very familiar in this space but as if she wasn't sure if she still belonged here. She'd done terrible things to them all when she allowed herself to become Killer Frost, had betrayed each and every person in this room.

When she had found out about Barry going into the Speed Force, she should have returned. She _had_ been going through her own journey, trying to manage her dual personalities and reclaiming some control, but the guilt of abandoning them racked her. She should have been there to help, she should have come back to them and help them get him back sooner. When she saw how broken Cisco was about missing his friend, maybe it wouldn't have been as painful for him if she could have shared his grief with him. And if for nothing else, she should have not given up on him because Barry had never given up on her. Despite his guilt, it wasn't his fault she'd gotten these powers. In the years she'd known him, he'd been there for her. Barry Allen had made her smile again after Ronnie, helped her refocus her grief into finding a purpose again with his escapade to become a hero. He understood her pain off loss, shared her love of science, and reminded her time and time again that what she'd been through in her life didn't have to define her. Loss made you cold, family thawed that. Cisco and Barry had become her family and she had let them down.

Caitlin tried to not to think about that regret, tried to ignore the anticipating eyes willing her to fix the man lying sedated before them. Instead, she focused on her patient, the man whose vitals she knew better than her own, a body she knew better than any lover's. She had been taking care of him for years, always clinical, never sexual, but always tender. She loved him like a brother, hated seeing him in pain, had patched every wound, set every broken bone, and helped him heal every injury sustained in the last few years. There had been quite a few sleepless nights spent sitting vigil, exhausted after trying to stabilize his vitals but unable to close her eyes as she needed to make sure he kept breathing, his heart kept beating, and that their hero would live another day. And then finally he would awaken, sometimes he would ask what happened in a quiet voice, sometimes he would wake up in pain and need her to hold his hand as he tried to settle. But somewhere along his healing, he would always thank her for saving him. What she would give for him to wake up now, aware and unchanged, the Barry Allen they all knew and needed, although her professional instincts told her that would not be so easy. But that wouldn't stop her from trying to save him.

Taking care of him now, though,made Caitlin feel more normal than anything she'd felt in a while. Once again, in his own way, Barry Allen was saving her.


	4. Cisco

**Cisco**

* * *

 **Who are we is who we are**

 **When the act of love can get us so far**

* * *

"Stars so loud - loud, cloud, proud!"

When Barry gripped his head in pain, shouting over the noise of the stars only he could hear, Cisco felt like he should go to his friend. He wanted to kneel beside him, lay a grounding hand on his shoulder like he'd done so many times in moments of heartache or physical pain. But instead he stood there unmoving, they all did, watching what felt like a broken image of the man they had mourned for months. And then Barry's voice dropped and Cisco felt as if a vibrating hand reached into his chest and squeezed his heart.

"Dad I are both okay."

Cisco hadn't been there for that moment but he recognized it immediately, and his heart broke for his friend. Those words were whispered amongst tears to a dying Nora Allen when Barry had gone back, the first time, to save her and didn't. Cisco had seen it one night when he had accidentally vibed Barry. It was less than a year ago while his friend had been crashing at his place after Barry and Iris called off the engagement. Barry had been putting in overtime as the Flash, jumping to the aid of every single alarm, and Cisco suspected it was to distract himself. When he wasn't working or being the Flash, he was either hanging out at home with Cisco or right there on the couch where Cisco had left him and watching Singing in the Rain.

The night that Cisco vibed him was yet another night he couldn't convince him to go out and cut loose. Barry had passed out on the couch while they were playing video games and Cisco had attempted to shift his friend into a more comfortable position. But a touch of the shoulder had Cisco transported to the living room he vaguely recognized from when Joe had taken him to the old Allen house looking for evidence. On the floor lay a bleeding Nora Allen, her hands cupping the unmasked face of Barry. His friend, just a few years younger than he was now but looking so much like a lost child, was in tears as he expressed to his mother that he was okay, crying to her that he loved her as she said goodbye. Just as Barry hunched over and sobbed into his mother's shoulder as she passed, Cisco came back to the present from the vibe. He stood over Barry who whispered for his mother in his sleep now and Cisco had to resist grabbing his friend in a tight hug. But Cisco instead moved as quickly and quietly to his room as he could, shutting the door behind him and fell to the floor crying for his friend.

Cisco knew loss, he'd lost his brother to a car accident. He was familiar with grief. But nothing could have ever prepared him for what he'd just seen. Barry had gone back to save her and instead watched her die. It was the missing scene from that night all those years ago, Barry forced to relive the worst night of his life and witness what he'd been whisked away from by his future self. He had never spoke of how it went other than deciding not to change things. They had all been distracted by the loss of Ronnie and Eddie and the destruction of Central City from the singularity to dig any deeper into Barry's experience. He started to pull away from them after that, wanting to keep his friends safe by not working with them and suffering silently of a depression that Cisco now had more clarity on. Losing her so violently, knowing he could end both of their pains by altering history but choosing not to, that was a grief Cisco could not understand. Barry Allen had dreamed his whole life of saving his mother and had given that up to preserve the life he had with them. And then a year later Barry had lost his father in the same way, at the hand of a murderous speedster in the same living room his life had collapsed around him all those years ago. In an attempt to keep his pain from consuming him, Barry had created Flashpoint, had saved his parents lives if only for a short time before making the difficult decision, once again, to sacrifice his parents and his happiness for all of their lives. Cisco forgave him months ago, but witnessing that agony that Barry experienced, Cisco realized now there was nothing to forgive. None of Barry's decisions were made lightly, driven only by overwhelming loss and heartache. Cisco didn't know loss and pain like that. He also didn't know if he would have been able to find the strength to do that if he had been in Barry's red boots.

He never told Barry that he had seen that private and heartbreaking moment, knew that no one else in this room understood what those words meant. Cisco wasn't sure if Barry was experiencing those moments now as if he was there again, seeing them as they were in that moment, or if his brain was so scrambled that past statements were all he could form as coherent thoughts. Everything he said was in no response to their questions or words. It was either comments about the stars, a string of words that sounded the same, plan always followed by no plan, way followed by no way, and then these perfect sentences he'd already said once before in what felt like another life, as if that was all his brain could piece together as he tried to communicate with them.

Maybe he wasn't seeing them as they were now. Maybe he was only seeing them as they were in that moment, like a memory replaying. And when he wasn't replaying those moments, did he see them at all, know who they were and who he was talking to? If Cisco was being honest, it didn't matter. He refused to believe this was all that was left of the funny, smart, heroic Barry Allen that Cisco had come to depend on so much in his life. Barry was the friend he never had growing up, the brother he'd always wished to have in Dante, and the family he never thought he'd have. No one understood Cisco better, not even Caitlin. He couldn't lose him.

"Too soon, I think. Maybe later."

Had Cisco made a mistake breaking Barry out? Perhaps it wasn't time, that he would have returned to them on his own when his penance had been served. Maybe the reason he was a fragmented version of himself was because whatever experience he had in the Speed Force, the lesson he was learning or the trial he was facing, wasn't completed. His journey was disrupted prematurely by Cisco ripping him from the fabric of the extra dimensional energy that was bonded to Barry on a cellular level. Once again, Cisco had tampered with something he knew very little about just because he could. Just like he had done when he broke Jay out of the Speed Force prison, sending the Speed Force into an unbalanced state that forced Barry to sacrifice himself to begin with.

He knew this was on him, and he owned that, but the feeling of guilt was brief. He did what he had to. He owed it to Barry. At least that's what Cisco told himself as he worked so hard to crack the coded symbols Barry had been drawing feverishly. He told himself that he had made a new suit for the Flash because Barry would need it when he returned, and not because it made it feel like every stitch that pulled the suit together pulled Barry that much closer to coming home. He told himself he was doing it all for Barry, just like he told them he'd broken Barry out for the sake of the city. It was an easy lie that sounded selfless, a noble act that disguised the truth that Cisco just couldn't bear being without his friend and the loneliness he felt without the love of his brother any longer. Cisco knew it was selfish but the truth was he would have dragged Barry out of the Speed Force sooner if he could have. With Barry with them, Caitlin returned, Team Flash whole for the first time in what felt like too long, hope was alive again. The rest they would figure out. Cisco believed it and sometimes that _was_ enough to make it true.


	5. Iris

**Iris**

* * *

 **Just give it some time**

 **Just give it some space**

 **Maybe it's better this way**

 **Promise me you'll always be better**

* * *

Five years ago he had drawn a dot on a glass board, expressing to her in his enthusiasm and passion as he circled it that the particle accelerator was about to change everything. They talked in his lab at CCPD because even though she rarely understood any of the science he worked on, she loved watching him in his element. She had cancelled a date to go to S.T.A.R. Labs with him that night because it was important to him, and he was important to her. Dating had never been a priority for her, only ever for fun and to satisfy lust, never really consciously seeking companionship beyond. Looking back now, she knew it was because she had that with Barry. He was her best friend, knew her better than anybody, could turn to him for everything and wanted nothing more to be the same for him. The only thing that had been missing from that equation then was the acknowledgement to herself that the reason her love for him escaped definition was because growing up together had normalized all those feelings, simply thinking that their dynamic was just uniquely Barry and Iris, not realizing that was what it meant to have a soul mate, to feel a love that couldn't be defined because it was complicated but so simple at the same time. But being in love with him and knowing it, was so much better.

"It's a whole new way of looking at physics. It will change the way we think about everything. From a single atom to an entire galaxy."

He had been right then. That night the particle accelerator had gone off, everything changed. As she heard the words again now, she thought about how he had gone from her best friend to her entire world, from an atom to a galaxy, from Barry Allen to _her_ Barry Allen. As she watched him grip his head and cry out in pain, watched him struggle to form a thought, not knowing if he knew when and where he was, Iris felt her galaxy crumble. She hadn't allowed herself to fantasize about him returning to them, about what that would look like. She couldn't allow herself to hope. Hope meant waiting, and breathing everyday without him was hard enough without the pain of thinking he could walk through the door at any moment. So even though she didn't imagine about what their reunion would be, seeing him like this was not anything she could have expected. Her Barry was brilliant and charming in his awkwardness. Seeing him manic, thoughts scattered and sentences fragmented, she couldn't keep up. Even when she had no idea what he was talking about, science or nerd talk, she could follow along because when Barry spoke it was always _to_ her with a voice that so desperately wanted to engage. And she usually was. But this, this was broken and unclear, remnant speech combined with disjointed phrases as he circled the small room at CCPD, covering walls with strange symbols only he could see the meaning. For the first time in her life, hearing Barry talk about the world as he saw it left her feeling further away from him than ever before, more separate from him then she felt the last six months.

"Can you hear the stars? Singing, rhyming, chiming, timing, every hour every minute."

Four years ago she had pleaded Barry to come home to her, to wake up from the coma that kept them apart. Watching him lying in bed, so quiet and still, the complete opposite of Barry Allen, had been the most difficult thing in her life up to that point. For nine months, she sat beside his bed, holding a hand that wouldn't curl around hers, a conversation with no response, crying to a shoulder whose arm wouldn't wrap around her. They'd grown up together, had been a part of every day of each others lives for over fourteen years and suddenly she was without, missing him while he missed out on his life. She watched his heart stop, over and over Iris watched his heart so full of life and love, just stop beating. She didn't know if her heart could survive with his not beating. Looking back now she knew it was because their hearts were connected. His heart always belonged to her, and her heart had always been his even if it took her longer to realize it.

Two years ago she watched him disappear for the first time into the Speed Force when he tried to get his powers back. She had begged him to come home to her then too, to grip her hand and let her bring him back from being lost forever. He had said it was her voice that had brought him home, like how her voice had helped him withstand a psychic attack by Grodd the year before. Then last year, as he lay there on the ground, dying from a wound in a dream, she had pulled him back to their world with nothing but her kiss.

After he returned from the Speed Force the first time, Harry had told her she was his lightning rod, the emotional anchor that every speedster needed to return to when they pushed themselves to their limits and the Speed Force drew them in. He had studied the Speed Force extensively and hypothesized that without a lightning rod, a speedster could get lost, unable to return to the point in time in which they came from. He suspected that was why the Reverse Flash continued to jump between the timelines, why Zoom became consumed with power. Knowing that Iris could imagine now why Savitar was the way he was; he'd lost her, lost everything, and became broken and lost himself.

Since day one Barry had looked to her to ground him, to keep him tethered to this life. When they were kids he trusted her to console him as he cried, giving in to his grief at losing his parents. When they were teens he relied on her to make him feel normal, insults and bullies threatening his sense of self worth, but knowing she saw him as worthy. When he became the Flash, she'd talked him from the ledge of being lost amongst the impossibilities of this improbable existence, evil speedsters and super-human powers, tried to help him bear the weight he carried on his shoulders if in no other way then reassuring him that she was there beside him. She was that unquantifiable something that always brought him back. But he was also hers. He had radiated joy when they met as kids and she was drawn to it. When he cried, she knew she had to go to him, needed to make him feel safe and wanted. He had made the big house that she and her father shared a home again when for so long it had felt empty. When her mother left, Iris and Joe had come to lean on each other but it just felt like they were wading in disturbed waters, unsure how to move forward. Then they took in a heartbroken boy and found purpose in making him feel whole, the three of them becoming whole together as their family took shape. As they grew, their friendship deepened till the other sought very little outside of their companionship. Things were easy between them, life was full knowing you always had someone to come home to.

She couldn't point to a day or time and place when she knew that she loved him like he had always loved her. It just came suddenly without warning, like a bolt of lightning, awaking the feeling that always been inside her and finally discovering what had been growing over their time together, a sudden sense of clarity as she realized she had fallen in love with him before she even knew it. With him, every day meant something. Without him, nothing made sense. She felt lost in the life they had built together. Photos that decorated the walls of the West home were painful memories. Their loft echoed in the silence, their bed a chasm, the kitchen haunted with shadows of him preparing a breakfast big enough for ten people but designed just for her and his speedster appetite, the shower they would sometimes share despite its close quarters felt like a cavern. Central City that housed all the places they had grown up together in felt out of context, a place she couldn't recognize or feel at home in. It all felt so hollow, quiet and dark without him. His eyes were her stars, his smile was her sun, and his voice was her music.

So yes, she could hear the stars singing, rhyming. Even as he spoke words she didn't understand or words she'd heard before, the point was she could hear them and see them coming from his lips. Lips that had turned up into a smile that lit up a room, lips that had professed his love for her over and over and never sounded repetitious or worn out, lips that would kiss her gently or drive her wild, lips that said her name in a way that could make her feel safe or send chills down her spine. And although it ached to see him speak to her without substance, at least they weren't spoken in echoes of her day dreams. He was flesh and blood in front of her and suddenly every minute and every hour didn't feel like every second would be agonizing.

As she watched him draw more foreign symbols on the walls of the containment cell in the pipeline, she thought of her father's words about faith. She knew the face in front of her, now rid of the beard that seemed to separate the Barry that returned to them from the Barry she knew, _her_ Barry. She couldn't catch his eye though as she stood in front of the glass wall dividing them. No matter where they were, Iris had always been able to steal his gaze from whatever had previously claimed his attention. His eyes always sought hers, just like hers always searched for him. They could find each other in a crowded room, and from what he'd told her, could find each other in any timeline or any earth. For six months she didn't search, afraid of what she'd find or wouldn't find. But now he was here and she couldn't look away, even as he seemed to not notice her. Maybe he was trying to communicate but she couldn't find the answer in it all. She'd never not been able to reach him before, to connect with him. Her father said she had to believe, but what that looked like for her she wasn't sure.

She didn't believe they could get him back alive, but here he was. When had she lost her faith? Where was the Iris that knew Barry would wake up from the coma. Where was the Iris that knew the Flash would swoop in and save the day even when he was still just a whispered rumor of a mysterious red streak running through the city. Where was the Iris that knew she could bring him home, could inspire him to believe in himself. Barry was standing right there in front of her, but she couldn't connect with him. Maybe it wasn't his fault though, maybe it was her's. If she wanted to find Barry Allen, first she'd have to find Iris West again. That meant believing, that meant trusting. Reluctantly she began to back away, knowing she'd have to leave his side for him to follow. She had to have faith that he would always follow.

"Come get me."


End file.
